


The Five Stages

by SushiOwl



Category: Green Lantern (Comic)
Genre: Death References, Gen, Heartbreaking, Sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-07
Updated: 2012-09-07
Packaged: 2017-11-13 19:20:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 873
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/506843
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SushiOwl/pseuds/SushiOwl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hal Jordan doesn't deal too well with death.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Five Stages

Battle against a great enemy was never an easy task. But battle in which people were lost was an endeavor that lasted long after the initial encounter. Even with the force either imprisoned or dead, the people of goodness battled the feelings left behind. It made a wound deeper that the physical, something that couldn't be stitched or wrapped, a deep bleed that became easily infected.

This was the kind of experience that sobered even Hal Jordan. He sat atop a tall Oan tower, his legs stuck through the safety rails and his feet dangling. His face was leaning against one rail, and he was staring out over the green collection of cities, quiet and eyes unfocused.

There were six power rings currently en route to their sectors in search of new recruits. That meant six Lanterns had died. There were six Lanterns that he had failed.

"Jordan."

Hal blinked, finally seeing the man in front of him. He was floating straight-backed with his arms crossed and his toes points. He was frowning as usual, but it wasn't because of irritation. It was just his face, impassive.

"Sinestro," Hal replied, some hollowness in his voice.

"Do you wish to be alone?" Sinestro asked as he floated over the railing and touched down next to him. The way he said it gave away his intent; he didn't care either way, because he was staying.

"No," Hal told him with the barest shake of his head, leaning back on his hands and turning his eyes up to him.

"Ah," he said, and he seemed at a loss for half a second then just sat down, folding his long legs. "How are you holding up?"

Hal gave half a shrug, before he just chewed at the worn place inside his mouth. "Y'know," he finally said, as if that answered everything. 

"I cannot read your mind, Jordan," Sinestro told him with some obvious annoyance.

Giving a weak laugh, Hal put his elbows on his thighs and leaned his forehead against a rail. "Well, I feel like shit," he told him. Sinestro didn't say anything, so he went on. "I mean, it's my responsibility to make sure new Lanterns stay safe. It's me who gives orders, and it's my fault they are dead."

"Jordan, you are aware that is not true," Sinestro told him in an even voice.

"Isn't it?" Hal asked, his brows coming together as anger rose in him. He was so mad at himself. And now he was mad at Sinestro for not understanding. "I mean, I was supposed to direct the movements. But the moment I look away, people begin to die." His eyes stung as he turned his head to look at his friend. "I didn't even know the names of two of them."

Sinestro made a noise in his throat, some kind of exasperate acknowledgement. "In the vastness of the Corps, it would be highly unlikely to learn everyone's name. In fact, the two you did not know were likely new recruits."

Closing his eyes, Hal made a face. "That's the point. They were new blood. Someone should have had their backs."

Sinestro actually sighed. "Jordan, grief is a logical emotion. It's fine to mourn the loss of our comrades. But to allow yourself to be enveloped in despair only taints the memory of the fallen. You are making this all about you. Others in the Corps are feeling a similar sadness."

Hal looked at him with a sniff, and he was surprised as the man laid his hand on his shoulder. It showed him that he was concerned in his own way.

"If you believe you could have done more, then you will double your efforts the next time the universe needs to be saved. Avenge their deaths with ever threat neutralized and every planet brought to peace."

Hal nodded, lifting his hand to set it atop Sinestro's. "It is good that you are so capable in battle--"

Sinestro stopped him with a sharp look. "Jordan, I am your superior. It is not your responsibility to worry about me."

Hal's thumb rubbed across the back of Sinestro's hand, and the man allowed it this one time. He couldn't help his need for touch as a form of comfort, and he was grateful that Sinestro recognized it.

They were quiet for a long time, Hal giving himself over to his thoughts. Before he had been obsessing about what he could have done, what orders and directions he should have given to make sure everyone was safe. Now he was thinking about what he would do next time. Because next time was all he had any ability to change.

Hal looked at Sinestro as the man's hand slid from his shoulder, and he squashed the urge to grab and hold it. Instead he wrapped his fingers around the rails and rubbed them with his thumbs.

"Do you worry about me?" he abruptly asked, turning his eyes back to the other man.

Sinestro didn't even hesitate. "If I did not, you would have gotten yourself killed long ago."

Taken aback by this response, Hal could not immediately respond. When he did though, he cautiously leaned his head on his friend's shoulder.

Sinestro let him.


End file.
